Back to blogging. I've been reading some other web logs in the past few days and they are SO ANNOYING. Just about every one. The problem (well, one problem) is that a lot of people feel like they have to update every day. And most people don't have something interesting to say every day, so what you get is a whole lot of dreck. And if they don't update everyday (like yours truly), then it's a pain in the ass; personally I hate going to a site I think should have been updated, and finding that nothing has changed. And then there are those who don't update every day and don't have something interesting to say (also like yours truly). But that's another situation all together.


But that's neither here nor there. Last week, on Tuesday, I gave Jeff's mom a call. I was expecting another of those conversations about how horrible her son is, etc etc. But an unfamiliar voice picked up the phone - Jeffrey's! It actually took me a minute to collect myself, I was so astonished that he was picking up the phone there. We chatted for a bit; he gave me his new cell phone number, I gave him an ultimatum. He told me that he sent the check that morning. I told him that was great, so if I didn't receieve it by Monday (6 days away) then I was going to file in small claims court. Well, he wasn't so happy to hear that. I did feel a little bad about it, but it was the right thing to do. I was thinking about the situation yesterday, and realized that it really has to take some doing to have your own mother not trust you. I think once you've reached that point, no one on earth is should feel bad for covering their bases when you're involved.

The upside of the entire thing is that I recieved a check (minus a hundred dollars for "utilities," which he never actually paid, but I wasn't going to quibble) a few days after the phone call. It was postmarked the day after the conversation (giving his statement that he sent it out that morning the lie), which I also thought was kind of funny. Deposited it, and it cleared (miracle of miracles!), and now I wash my hands of the entire situation.

And now, of course, it's time to start it all again. I was looking for places last week, visited a few. One place in Park Slope was really weird - some lady with back problems (and a seriousl addiction to cigarettes) is looking for another boarder in her brownstone. Right now she has 3 other people living there, and is looking to replace a fourth that just moved out. I didn't want to feel like I was intruding on anyones space - and I've heard enough annoying stories about boarding houses (such as that described in Stephen King's Salem's Lot that I didn't want to be involved. I actually found one tolerable share in Greenpoint which was almost the winner.

But then, at an Agent Double-O Zero show at Soundzbar this week, the trombone player told me about a friend of his who's a gourmet chef, pastry chef, and all around cool guy who needs to look for a place with somebody. Maybe I have unreasonable expectations, but I swear he better be making me puff pastries like it's his job. Since, strictly speaking, it's his job. Start looking at places with him next week. Huge.